A Song of Vengeance
by perdidit-angelus
Summary: Westeros was not the only country out there. Olympus, a nation mysterious to outsiders, has now entered the Game of Thrones. But what is the agenda of this country, more specifically, their king? More power? More land? Or is it more than that?


(Third Person POV)

"Everyone, silence!" The boy king yelled as he stood up. "Clear the floor! There's been too much amusement here today. A royal wedding is not an amusement. A royal wedding is history. Time has come for all of us to contemplate our history."

King Joffrey took a slight pause, a smug grin appearing on his face as everyone paid attention to him, "My lords." Suddenly, a creaking sound as one of the servants rolled the lever to open the mouth of the large lion head by the side. "My ladies." A red carpet rolled from the lion's mouth, almost appearing like its tongue. "I give you, King Joffrey."

Out of the lion's mouth, a dwarf dressed similarly to the king of Westeros came trotting out on an imitation of a pony that was mutated with a lion head with deer antlers. Other dwarves followed him, and Joffrey gladly introduced them. "Renly, Stannis, Robb Stark, Balon Greyjoy. The War of the Five Kings!"

The dwarves pranced around, and everyone laughed, well, seemingly so. The dwarves lined up, facing the audience, and dwarf Joffrey announced, "Let the War of the Five Kings begin!"

And so the performance began, the simple minded fools in the audience simply laughing til their bellies ached, and those who were not so amused only looked on plainly. Soon, dwarf Renly died, and Loras took it as an insult, storming off before anyone can stop him.

The dwarves continued on with their play, and soon enough, only "Robb Stark" and "Joffrey Baratheon" remained. They faced each other, as if to joust, and everyone was either so focused on the display or averting their eyes from it that no one saw it. Him.

A boot flew out to kick "Robb Stark" straight to the face, so hard that the dwarf flew across the arena and his wolf helm rolled from his head to the Spider's feet. Everyone turned to the man who kicked the dwarf, and surprised gasps came from everyone. There stood a tall, imposing man. A man who was in his mid thirties, with hair darker than the night, and a face more handsome than anyone has ever seen. With broad shoulders and a strong physique, it was no wonder how he kicked the dwarf so far. But out of anything, it was his eyes that sent a chill down everyone's spine. Green, but not like that of the Lannister's, but like that of the sea, the sea in storm.

The man began walking, and indifferent look set upon his face. "Four years. Four years I was away from my home to lead Olympus' army against invaders once again. When arrived home, I was expecting to deal with its internal affairs, but that is not what welcomed me home, is it?"

The man stood straight in the center of the stage, and stared directly at Joffrey. "Tell me, do you know what happens to anyone who ever touched an Olympian's family?"

"How dare-" Joffrey attempted to say. But he was cut off. First, by the stirring dwarf, but then by the unknown man. The man did not have to look at the dwarf to know that the threat was towards to him. "Phoebe, if that shit is not gone by the time you notch an arrow on your bow, shoot him between his eyes."

"Your will, my king." A voice answered, yet when people looked around, they knew not where it came from. The man spoke again, "Vlad, if the other one is not gone by the time Phoebe loads her bow, impale him."

"Your will, my king." Another voice answered, and as with before, no one knew where it came from. The dwarves did not have to be told twice, and took off running. But, Phoebe was master archer, and even before the dwarf can escape the arena, suddenly, he fell. To those who could see, an arrow entered from the back of his head and went straight through his skull, right between his eyes. As for the other dwarf, a man with dark hair suddenly appeared before him, and even before he could draw another breath, a spear entered his mouth. The dark haired man then hoisted the dwarf on the spear, sticking it on the ground and watching as the impaled dwarf slowly slide down it, leaving a trail of blood from the top to the bottom. The man who gave the order only looked to the dead performers with indifference. Perhaps they were only doing their jobs, but it pissed him off.

By now, almost everyone knew who the man in the center was, and they bowed. Those who did not know, stared, confused. A cry of relief broke from a person from the high tables, "Uncle!"

The man broke his stare at Joffrey, and his eyes softened as he looked at his niece, who was celebrating her ninth nameday the last that he saw her. "Sansa."

Sansa rose to go to her Uncle, but a voice stopped her. "Sit down, you stupid girl!"

The man's attention snapped back to Joffrey, and without breaking eye contact, he motioned to Sansa with his hand, "Sansa, come here."

"Guards! Bring his head to me!" Joffrey ordered in a petulant rage. Tywin, Tyrion, and his own mother attempted to stop the order, but the man beat them to it. "Achilles."

With one word, soldiers bursted out of nowhere. Servants suddenly ripping their clothes to show the armor beneath, soldiers coming from entrances, soldiers climbing down from walls, soldiers coming from everywhere. Within the blink of an eye, they were surrounded by soldiers dressed in armor bearing two raised pegasi as their sigil.

Everyone but that of the man and his army froze. Joffrey opened his mouth to give another order, "Gua-"

But once again, the man interrupted him, "Speak again, and I will have everyone here gutted. No, actually, I will have everyone's throat cut from ear to ear, and I will paint the sea red with all your blood."

No one said a word, and everyone tried to not make a sound after that. Besides the kingsguard, all other guards seemed to be missing. They did not doubt that the man king will without a doubt follow through with his word.

Suddenly, he laughed. Everyone else stayed silent, and looked to him cautiously. "Achilles, at ease."

A man called out, "Soldiers."

With that, the soldiers put away their weapons, but stood their positions. Tywin slowly rose from his chair, "King Perseus, perhaps it is best that we speak of this privately."

The man turned his eyes to Tywin, "Privately, Lord Tywin? Privately? What do you know of the word?"

His eyes turned once again to Sansa, "Sweet niece, come now, it is alright. Phoebe."

One of the soldiers moved from her position to escort Sansa to her king, and since Joffrey killed her father, Sansa has not felt comfortable with soldiers, that is except with this one. The soldier walked her to her Uncle, making sure that no one attempted to harm her, and meanwhile, he spoke, "I expected better of you, Lord Tywin. Years of trying to get in the Olympian's circle, and this is what you do."

"King Per-"

"My nephew, Lord Tywin. My nephew." He said this as he looked to the wolf helm that the dwarf left, then he turned his gaze back to Tywin. Tywin tried to lie his way around the situation, "King Perseus, I assure you, we had nothing to do with the Frey's horrible act."

Percy felt Sansa behind his back as she used him to shield herself away from the Lannisters. He felt as she gripped his clothes as if to warn him, but he only placed a gentle hand on her arm, as if to assure her. "We will see, Lord Tywin."

"Phoebe, take Sansa back to the ship. Take a few guards with you."

"Your grace." Phoebe replied as she gestured Sansa to follow her.

"No!" Joffrey yelled indignantly. "She is my prisoner! Mine!"

Percy turned his gaze to the boy king once more. "Did I not say that I will have everyone here killed if you spoke once more?"

Tywin was quick to cover his grandson. "What he meant, King Perseus, was that Sansa is married to my son, Tyrion."

"Sansa." Percy called to her.

"Uncle?"

"Did you ever consummate your marriage to Tyrion Lannister?" He asked blankly.

"No." She said softly. At that, Tywin glared at his son, and Cersei and Joffrey glared at Sansa.

"Well then there you have it. I declare their marriage null and void."

"You can't do that!" Joffrey spoke once again.

Percy chuckled, "You don't like your guests at all, do you? But nonetheless, I can. I am the King of Olympus, I can do what I want. And whatsmore, as the only living male with Stark blood in his veins, I am Sansa's guardian. And, I own Winterfell. At least according to Westerosi law, is that not right, Sansa?"

"Yes, Uncle."

"Well there you have it."

The Lannister clan was bewildered, for once, and Joffrey said, "The Boltons hold the North."

Percy smiled sinisterly, "Not for long."

"Uncle?" Sansa asked. Everyone was curious as well.

"The Olympian army is bigger than any army in the world. Our navy, bigger than Westeros' combined. Just because I am here, does not mean I am not everywhere else." He said. Then he turned Varys, "Tell me, Spider, did you birds tell you of the Armada that landed in Bear Island?"

"No, milord." Varys spoke carefully.

"Yes, by now I reckon that the Mormonts and my second in command are gathering the rest of the Northern lords that we aren't going to eradicate."

"I bid you congratulations, my lord."

"Thank you." Percy turned back to the Lannisters, and he can see Joffrey boiling with rage.

Percy turned to Tywin Lannister once again, "Lord Tywin. Ned. No matter what, he was my cousin, my blood. And I have heard of the tales of his execution and of what you believe to be mercy. You owe me a life. Pick a cousin, a brother, a sister. It matters not to me. But a Lannister blood for the Stark blood you spilled."

"What do you mean, King Perseus?" Tywin gritted out.

"You heard me. Unless you want me to take the rest of Westeros, then I suggest you pay your due. The ironborn will exist no longer if they do not sacrifice Balon and Euron. Brothers. For my nephews that they burned on Winterfell itself. Soon enough, the Freys will cease to exist. All the blood they spilt, I will double in repayment." Percy said calmly. "Consider it mercy. Instead of directly killing all of you, I had the decency to demand a life for a life."

"The Olympians protect their own. There is a reason no one harms our kin. No, now either you pay, or I will collect."

"You are asking me to be a kinslayer."

"I am not asking you, Lord Tywin. You and your family made your bed, now lie in it. Unless of course you want to follow the Castameres. How ironic would that be?"

"You cannot talk to us this way." Joffrey snapped

Percy merely chuckled. He turned to Sansa, "Where is your sister?"

"She escaped before Father was executed." Sansa said

"Huh. I see." Percy said quietly to himself. He paused for dramatic effect. Of course, he already knew this, but that did not mean he cannot use it to his advantage.

Then he addressed everyone, "Whoever brings me my niece alive, I will grant you any wish you want. Gold, land, power, marriage, anything." Then he turned to Tywin, "Even life."

"I don't care who you are, bring my niece to me, and I will even marry into your family if you so want. The power of the Olympians will be yours."

Everyone whispered among themselves, and Percy smiled. "Let the games begin. Phoebe."

The guard stepped beside Percy, "My king."

"You are my best tracker. Go look for my niece as well. Take a party with you. If you deliver her to me, you will be the next in line to be general."

Phoebe smirked, "Thank you, my king."

Percy chuckled as Phoebe called to her six other soldiers and they departed. Achilles himself took Phoebe's place next to Sansa.

Percy turned back to the high table, "We are done for today. Find my niece, or else deliver to me the heads of your kin. Believe me, those are your best options."

Percy snapped his finger, "I almost forgot. Tysha!"

A slender, dark haired woman came forward, a box in her hand. Percy turned to Sansa, but spoke loud enough for others to here. "Sansa, this is Tysha, she will be your handmaiden now. You know, she was from the Westerlands, though, for some reason, we found her in Selhorys."

Percy turned to the high table once more, slightly glancing at Tyrion and his look of ghastly surprise before reverting his attention back to Margaery. "Queen Margaery, for you. For your newly nuptials."

Tysha opened the box, and there, a beautiful necklace rested. "Made out of gold, and encrusted with rubies, for House Lannister. I do apologize for causing a scene during this _festive_ day."

Margaery accepted the gift, and as she lifted it from the box, everyone saw and gasped at it. It was beautiful. "It is beautiful, King Perseus. Thank you."

Percy bowed slightly. "A long and happy marriage to you, Queen Margaery."

"As I hope for it to be so, King Perseus. Please, stay for the remainder of the festivities. Depart in the morrow so that we may bid you a proper goodbye and my dear friend Sansa can gather her things for your journey." Margaery said as she smiled pleasantly.

Percy smiled, amused. To be a queen is better than to be a Lady. But is it better to be the queen of Westeros, or the queen of Olympus? With a quick glance at the rest of the high table, Percy knew exactly what was going through their minds. Olenna Tyrell was proud of her grand daughter. Cersei Lannister wanted to murder the young queen, and Tywin seemed as if he wasn't opposed to the idea. Joffrey just wanted to murder him. Percy chuckled, then turned to Sansa, "What say you, sweet niece?"

Percy watched as Sansa looked pained even at the consideration of it, but suddenly, her eyes looked blank, "It would be an honour and a privilege to stay for your grace's wedding."

Ahh. It seems that his once naive niece has now adapted to the reality of the world. Ned, you fool. You stupid fool. You should have done better. Now look where we are. Your family, torn apart. You, dead. Cat, dead. Robb, dead. Sansa struggles to fight the monsters within and out of herself. Arya has tasted the blood of man even younger than I have. Bran is north of the wall. Rickon can barely recall you. And Jon, sullen Jon is in a place his mother would have never wanted him to be part of. Was this all worth it, Ned? Was it?

Percy removed himself from his thoughts, "Then it is settled. We leave at dawn."

Joffrey glared at him, "Who said you were welc-"

Tywin interrupted him, "A wonderful decision, King Perseus. We will have a chamber prepared for you in the castle, and a place set for you in the high table."

"Very well, I bid you my thanks, Lord Tywin, Queen Margaery. Though you may excuse me, I feel my attire to be quite improper right now. Allow me to change." Percy turned to Sansa, "Sansa, come, you have always chosen my attire when you were still young."

The Lannister looked as if they wanted to say something, but all held their tongue. Tywin kept a tight grip on Joffrey to make sure he did as well. Tywin nodded, "And all will be prepared for your return."

"Tysha, come." Percy commanded as he turned, offering his arm to Sansa as he began to walk. His soldiers were quick to follow him. As they began to walk, a woman who was smirking at him caught his eye, and he grinned before making his way to her. She held out her hand to him, as if she already knew, and he took it before placing a kiss on her knuckles, "Ellaria, you are a wonderful surprise. Your mother has been pestering me."

"My mother has been half in love with you for the longest time, dear king. Though I cannot blame her." She said her eyes filled with mirth.

Percy chuckled. Aphrodite and her children always proved to be an interesting encounter. Percy looked at the man beside her, who only looked on amusedly, "Prince Oberyn, we must spar before I depart."

"Of course, dear friend. It has been a while since I actually had a decent spar." Oberyn said as he took a sip of his wine.

Percy chuckled, then winked at Ellaria before heading for his ship once again. But, before he even took ten steps, he stopped, then looked at Sansa. Without even turning his head, he said loud enough for everyone to hear, "Lord Tywin, I want every man whoever laid a hand on my niece to be presented to me when I return."

Sansa's eyes widened in terror, but Percy laid a hand on her arm to assure her that it was alright. Percy turned back to the high table, and almost as if he was not laughing only moments ago, his eyes returned to that dangerous glint that it was when he first made his presence known. "People talk, Lord Tywin. And as you know, for the right price, they will sing it."

With that, he left. Leaving the kingsguard to look to each other worriedly. Joffrey stood up, seething with rage. "I want him dead!"

Tywin only looked to him coldly. "Tell me, _your grace_. Can you tell me of any other country besides Westeros?"

Joffrey opened his mouth, but he nothing came out. Instead he sneered, "I have not even heard of Olympus."

"Then I should replace your maester for making you so incompetent." His eyes turned to the Grand Maester slightly, but then turned back to Joffrey. "You will not find any other as significant as Westeros or Olympus because Olympus conquered man, he accomplished that. Before King Perseus was king, Olympus was divided in twelve countries. He united them, built the greatest army ever seen, and he conquered all other countries because he could. To think, he was only six and ten when he became king."

Tywin looked to his own children, even his grandchildren. "The son of a Stark. And look what I spawned."

Joffrey, unwilling to give up, haughtily said, "He is unable to conquer Westeros."

"For the reason that his mother is a Stark. The Olympians never conquer the lands of their own blood."

(With Percy)

Percy and Sansa entered his cabin, his soldiers outside standing guard, and as soon as he closed the door, she was quick to embrace him. He held onto her tight, allowing her to sob on him as he kept her from falling. "It's alright, Sansa, I am here now."

She separated from him, her eyes filled with tears. "Uncle, they killed father. They killed mother and Robb too. Please, you have to believe me. Joffrey he-"

Percy wiped her tears, "Shh. I know, Sansa. I know everything."

"They will kill us if we stay, thy will never let me leave, Uncle. Please, we must go now." She pleaded.

"You know better, Sansa. We must play this game."

Sansa knew, but she wanted it to be different. Her father died playing this game. He was an unwilling player, granted, but he still perished because of it.

Percy only smiled. "Oh sweet niece, we will avenge the North. This, I swear to you."

She was unsure, but still, she nodded. "Uncle. Arya is most likely dead."

He wiped the remaining tears from her face, "No, she is not. I know where she is, Sansa."

Her eyes widened in shock. Arya. "Are you certain."

He smiled and nodded. Sansa asked, "But then why?"

"To cause chaos, sweet niece. I am certain that as we speak, everyone is searching for her. They will destroy each other, and we will let them. Meanwhile, Phoebe is to protect her from them, to make sure that they do not cause her harm."

"Then why not send Phoebe to bring Arya back?"

"Because Arya is not yet done, Sansa. There is a certain extent to which I can interfere with the fates, but some, I must allow. When Arya is done, Phoebe will guide her to us, but in the meantime, we must take Winterfell and the North again."

Sansa did not fully understand what her Uncle was speaking of, but she trusted him. There was no one else she could trust.

Percy saw the doubt in Sansa's eyes, and he grinned. "I have a present for you."

Percy moved to trunk, where he took out a scroll and gave it to Sansa. "Read it."

Sansa took the parchment from her uncle, and as she began to read its contents, her eyes widened in surprise. "He's alive? They're alive?"

Percy nodded. "I was not speaking false when I said that a part of my navy was in the North. They found Rickon as they were gathering the lords who have not turned. They were headed to the Last Hearth before my men intercepted them. Now they wait in Bear Island for our arrival."

"Uncle, why can you not destroy the Lannisters yourself? You are the King of Olympus." Sansa asked.

Percy sighed, "The olympians are selfish fucks, Sansa. I may lead them, but in the end, everything still has to go through the council. I can take my soldiers to war, but not theirs. We just went through a war, most want to rest, and I cannot force them to fight."

Percy then went to a table, and Sansa followed him to see a battle map. Percy pointed to the North, "As of right now, only quarter of my navy was able to be used to battle, so that makes a hundred ships. Each ship carries about 450 men, that makes my army 45, 000 strong. The Northern army was counted to be 500 strong. And the Bolton's to be 6, 000. That makes it easy enough to take over them. The Freys, even easier. Your aunt in the Vale has yet to be counted for, and I am not sure where her allegiance lies, but Petyr Baelish has been reported to be wooing her. The Lannisters have around 34, 000 men, and that has yet to include the Tyrell army. The Tyrell army is 70, 000 strong."

Sansa stared, shocked. Percy smiled reassuringly, "Worry not, sweet niece. Allies still lurk in the shadows."

Sansa felt uneasy. "Uncle, what of the rest of your army?"

"We cannot wait that long to move. It will take years to rebuild the ships, and I cannot send the ones we have here. We must make do with what we have."

Percy looked into Sansa's eyes, "Sansa, believe in me. At the end of this, if you still want to leave Westeros, I will take you to Olympus. Rickon or Arya will rule Winterfell."

"Uncle, you don't understand. It was my fault that father died. I wanted to be queen. I wanted to be Joffrey's queen. I went to Cersei and told her that father was planning to take us back North."

Percy sighed, once again wiping the tears from Sansa's eyes. "Sansa. Your father got himself killed. Even if you had not gone to the queen, I am certain that she would have known that your father was planning to leave. You know the walls have ears. And words travel faster than those who spoke them."

Sansa hugged Percy once again. She was so tired. She just wanted her father to smile at her once again. She wanted her mother to brush her hair. She wanted Robb to be the overbearing older brother he was. She wanted to quarrel with Arya. SHe wanted to sing to Bran and Rickon about heroes. But most of all, she just wanted her family back. She wanted them alive.

Sansa separated from her uncle, and he smiled at her kindly. "Now, we have to return to the feast. Why don't you have Tysha have you cleaned up, and I will meet you outside."

Sansa nodded. "Thank you, Uncle."

Percy nodded, and waited until Sansa was out before he started changing clothes. In truth, he only needed to talk to her, but now he supposed that he had to change. He sighed. War after war. His soldiers needed a rest after this. He should sink this forsaken place, but he defies the fates enough by coming here. Much to his dismay, Bran has to become the bloody three eyed raven, Jon has to die and be reborn, Arya has to learn how to become an assassin, and the Targaryen girl needs to learns how to control her dragons.

Apollo has shown him much, but only so that he will understand why he cannot kill everyone and be done with it. This was not his war to begin with, that is why the gods forbade the rest of the Olympian countries from helping him, and took away a majority of his army. If he wanted to do this, then he will have to make do. Which was not a problem, he has worked with less.

Percy finished changing his attire, even shaving his beard, then hid a dagger in his boot, on his sword belt, and placed his sword on the belt. He donned his crown, a simple gold band with emeralds embedded in them, then proceeded to step out. There, everyone was waiting for him. He held his arm out to Sansa once again, and began heading to the feast. As they walked, Percy asked, "Tysha, do you wish to accompany us, or do you prefer to stay in the ship?"

"Whatever milord commands." Tysha replied

Percy chuckled. "Tysha, I asked you what you wanted. Are you comfortable enough with Tyrion there?"

She looked at him, slightly surprised, but Percy only answered with, "I still remember your story, Tysha. I will not force you to do something you are not comfortable with.

"I am alright, your grace."

"If that is what you want. But if you want to be excused, all you need to do is ask."

Percy held onto a pouch before calling out Achilles. "Achilles." He tossed the pouch to the soldier without even looking to him, and as he heard it hit his hands, Percy said, "Go to the Flea Bottom. Buy what we need for our travels, and with the rest, eat and drink with the soldiers. I will see you in the morn."

"Yes, your grace."

He heard them take a separate from them, and for the rest of the way, he, Sansa, and Tysha walked in silence.

When they finally reached the feast once more, Percy saw that they placed him between Tywin and Cersei. How predictable.

Percy took Sansa back to her seat, beside Tyrion, and pulled out her chair for her. Then he looked at Tyrion Lannister, "Tyrion."

The half drunk imp looked to him, then at Tysha, then back to him. "Your grace?"

"Should you want to speak to me, find me after the feast."

"Of what, your grace?" Tyrion asked

Percy then held a pouch in front of him. Tyrion looked at the pouch, "Your grace?"

Percy poured the contents of the pouch on the table, and out of the pouch, silver coins fell out. A handful, two, who knew, but when the pouch finally emptied, one gold coin stood above the the pile of silver. Percy whispered so that only those within reach heard, "When we found her in Selhorys, she gave us that so that we would take her far away from Westeros. You're a smart man. Why don't you fucking ponder on that."

Tyrion stared at the pile in front of him. What whore saved her earnings?

Percy walked to his chair, Tysha behind him. "You should not have done that."

"And I should not be eating with the people who killed my family, yet here we are. If you asked me, you should have stabbed him." Percy said as he sat, Tysha standing behind him.

"Lord Tywin, Queen Regent." Percy addressed the people beside him.

"King Perseus. How fares Olympus?" Tywin asked.

"Considering that we have just been through a war, well. Produce seems promising since the soldiers can actually tend their lands, the soil is fertile, the water abundant. In fact, the land has never seemed so full of life. Our resources are still abundant, my scholars are relentless in their search for knowledge, and overall, life is well." Percy said as he began to examine the dish set in front of him.

"And of the soldiers in the North?" Tywin asked

"They are the soldiers that are soldiers even in the time of peace." Percy replied

"And who manages your kingdom in your absence, you grace?" Cersei asked.

"Why, my hand of course. I would leave my kingdom in no other hand than hers." Percy replied.

"Your hand is a woman?" Cersei asked.

Percy smiled, "Why, of course. Is that a problem?"

"No, King Perseus."

Before anyone could ask any questions, Percy turned to Tywin. "I believe I asked you to have everyone who has ever laid a hand on my niece to be presented before me, Lord Tywin."

Tywin allowed a humourless chuckle to come from him. "Of course, King Perseus. Jaime."

In front of them, the golden haired, white cloaked Lannister led the Kingsguard before him. Percy took out the dagger from his belt, and began spinning it on the table. "The whole Kingsguard. How disappointing. Didn't Arthur Dayne used to be part of this? Has requirements lowered so much?"

He glanced at Jaime, who was looking at him, before staring back at the dagger. "Tell me, Ser Jaime. You served with Arthur Dayne and Prince Lewyn Martell. What exactly happened for Kingsguard to turn from that, to _that_?"

"The kingsguard is fully capable of protecting the king, your grace." Jaime gritted out. Even he knew it was a lie. He hated his brothers now. They were but a disgrace to the brotherhood.

"I see. Now tell me, what exactly would you do if one of your former brothers ever harmed your sister?" Percy asked, taking a pause from spinning his dagger to look Jaime in the eye.

"I would have killed them myself, your grace." Jaime said as he briefly looked at Cersei. The transaction was not lost to Percy. Nor Tywin.

"Despite it being an order from the king?"

"Yes." Jaime said.

"Very well." Percy returned back to spinning his dagger. "Have Meryn Trant step out."

The rest of the kingsguard stepped backwards, and Meryn Trant looked to his brothers in panic, then back to the high table. He looked to Joffrey, but his king only disregarded him. He has been told by Tywin to silence his mouth. Percy spoke up, "Tell me, Ser Meryn, did you beat on a little girl because your ego is so fragile?"

"I did only as the king commanded." He defended himself.

 _And soon, he will pay for that_. Percy did not even look at him, "Then might you say that the king's word is law and must be followed?"

"Yes." He replied.

Without looking up, Percy commanded, "Tysha, kill him."

Within the blink of an eye, a dagger was embedded in Meryn's throat. Blood spurted out, and everyone looked in horror as Meryn struggled with the dagger. He fell to his knees trying to grip the dagger, but he ended up yanking it out. He continued to bleed, and Percy only commented. "You must work on your aim, Tysha. You aim quite low. I thought Althea was teaching you?"

"She is, your grace. See taught me to aim for the neck, your grace." She replied.

He chuckled. "I suppose I should have expected that. She does prefer slower, messier death. Though she does have a point, a knife will penetrate the neck easier than it will penetrate the skull."

Percy then handed the dagger he was playing with to Tysha. "Here. It is a better dagger than what you had."

Tysha took the dagger. "Many thanks, your grace."

Percy looked to the stage once more, where servants was dragging out Meryn's body. The rest will follow soon enough. Along the way, he caught Oberyn's eye, who looked to the spectacle in amusement, then Percy turned to Joffrey. "You are in need of a new guard."

A/N: Yes, I work on other stories. Why do you guys think I haven't finished anything?

Anyways, I'll update this in a year, maybe. I don't know.


End file.
